Risen: The Demontouched Saga (Book 6) (5 page)

“Question him. Find out what he knows.”

The trio nod before taking the trembling man around the corner away from us.

“You saved her, right?”

I nod. “She is with the others.”

The edges of his lips curl before he turns his attention to the portal.

“What’s the plan?”

“I’d like to say I have one,” he says. “But I don’t. The only thing we can do is delay them as long as possible.”

“You try to take out the cranes?”

“They are too well protected. We made a heavy push against the center of the riverfront, but they held strong. Then once the bridges blew, we had no choice but to fall back.”

The answer is what I suspected. They wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave the cranes unprotected right now. With us surrounding them, and with the bridges out, they wouldn’t be able to bring in another. The only thing I need to know is what we are facing.

“Have a knife?” I ask, holding my hand out.

“Lose yours?” He pulls a small switchblade out of his right front pocket. Not exactly the knife I expected him to have, but it will work.

“Sara has it with her.” I walk around the corner with Azrael in tow. With one of the men still alive we need some answers and I bet I’m willing to take things much further than the others.

“Leave him to me,” I say to the soldier kneeling in front of him. He nods before stepping out of the way.

“Who do you work for?” I ask before hitting him in the jaw with a left hook. The soldiers grunt when my fist hits his jaw, but the man turns his head with a smug look on his face like it didn’t even phase him.

“Not like a priest to torture,” he says, shifting his weight on the ground.

“I’m the new type,” I say. “One that doesn’t give a shit.” I pull out the switchblade, placing it near his groin before pressing the trigger. With the exposed blade so close to his family jewels, the man’s expressions change to fear as the sweat beads on his forehead. “I’ll give you one last chance.”

“The guy’s name is Duncan, man. That’s all I know.”

“Duncan is dead,” I say, pressing the blade closer. “I killed him myself.”

His eyes go wide and he bites lower lip when I feel my face redden. Before I can castrate the kid, Az puts his hand on my shoulder.

“He is talking about Abaddon. Duncan is just his front.”

“The old body is gone,” I say. “Why would he take the same name if he had to take a new body.”

“He?” the kid says, confusion in his eyes. “Duncan is a woman.”

“Woman?” I say, pulling the blade back. “Since when?”

“As long as I’ve known her,” he says. “About three weeks.”

The time line fits. That’s about the time the compound was attacked when they took the souls out of the orb. I figured he would come back to haunt me, I just never figured it would be this early.

“How many others?”

“We had a few hundred down here,” he says.

“Demons.”

He looks at me confused again. “Demons?”

I find it hard to believe that he has worked for them for more than a few days and doesn’t know what they are.

“Why do you think they are building the portal?”

He shrugs. “They just said they wanted to make St. Louis a gateway city again.”

Just to keep my composure I backhand the guy, not that it seems to phase him.

“Gateway to Hell,” Az says, laughing. “Glad we didn’t get the stupid ones.”

The soldiers behind us snicker at the remark. I look back at the trio wanting to join in. When they see me, the man with more stripes on his uniform clears his throat, the other two stop laughing immediately.

“You’re allowed to laugh,” I say, but they remain silent.

Wanting to get done with this faster, I hold the blade to his throat. “One last time, how many leaders?”

“Enough to kill you three times over,” the man says, in a deep, raspy voice.

Azrael pulls out his sword, putting it against his throat. “Who are you.”

“The one that is going to kill you all.” The man laughs deeply which I find stupid. Seeing how he is tied up with an angel blade against his throat.

“I’ll finish this,” Az says.

“Hold up. Let me try something.” I place the blade of the knife down on the ground behind me before placing the palm of my hand over his face.

“You sure this is going to work?”

I shake my head. “If it doesn’t, you can kill him.”

“Fair enough.”

The man moves his face around, making it difficult to touch his temples. After a moment Az must get frustrated, because he moves the blade, forcing his head to stay still or get removed.

I close my eyes, breathing deep while I focus on what I’m about to do.

“Exorcizamus!” I shout, pushing his head into the wall.

I sigh when nothing happens at first, nearly taking my hand off his head when I see it. Like a floodlight, a blast of pure white light releases from my hand. The man screams when the light enters his body, through every hole in his face.

Az releases his grip on the sword when the man seizes against the wall. I hold the man’s head back against the wall to keep him from falling to the side.

The man’s eyes roll back in his head and his body slumps over. I’m sure the man is dead until his body straightens up, head up in the air. His mouth opens widely releasing the bright light into the air, the shadowy tendrils of the demon’s soul follows shortly behind.

With the spirit free from the body, the man looks up at me. “Thank you,” he says, sincerely. Az takes a few minutes to look him over, but he doesn’t seem hurt. Just…different.

“You OK?” I ask, cutting the ropes from his wrists.

“My head is clear for the first time in months,” he says, rubbing his wrists. “How did you do that?”

“Trade secret.”

- 7 -

“Seriously,” Azrael says, blocking my escape. “How did you do that?”

“Earlier today, after Uriel healed me, I felt something. It’s almost like she restored part of what Michael removed.”

Az walks around in a circle, scratching his head. “You think he didn’t exorcize you?”

I shrug. “I didn’t feel him at first.” I still really don’t. What I feel now, is different. It is hard to explain. Eunie, in his glory, had a way of going ape shit when I was anywhere close to danger. In a place like this, with a battle raging nearby, he would be buzzing.

“What are we going to do with him?” I ask, pointing to the guy I just saved.

“We’re going to take him back to Uriel,” one says. “She can keep a better eye on him than we can.”

“She might be busy,” I say. “They were on a retrieval mission, with the command center being under the bridge.”

“She will be fine,” Az says. “She is more of an overseer than a worker.”

Out of all the time I’ve spent with her, I’ve never seen her lift a finger to fight once. I don’t doubt she has power, but she almost seems to be holding back at times. If she had been more active from the start, we might not be in the shape we are in.

I follow Az to the parking garage near the old museum. We walk up the ramps, taking a position on the highest level overlooking the battlefield.

Looking down, I can see both sides are at a standstill. That doesn’t bode well for us though. All they have to do is stall us long enough to get the final pieces in place. The three cranes are in position, one near the base of each pillar on the city side with the last one in the center near the barges.

Most of the demonic forces are stationed near the three cranes though there are a dozen people guarding the last piece which is currently on the back end of a tractor trailer.

“They got another,” Az says, directing my attention to the top of the portal. In the air, the straps are being removed from the piece as it welds itself in place. With one piece to go, the countdown is on.

“Doesn’t give us much time,” I say.

“Even less than before. The last piece should be easier to get into position. All they have to do is get it close.”

I nod. With whatever demonic fusion they have going on, it wouldn’t take much. I pull the rifle off my shoulder before resting it on the concrete barrier.

“What are you going to do?”

“Stall that truck.”

Before I take my shot, I pull the spare magazine and set it on the ground. I’ve never been fast at reloading one of these, but I figure it can’t be too difficult. I just know it’s going to take more than one or two bullets to stop that truck.

Finally prepared, I take aim at the front tire. It is usually the biggest of the bunch, but also the most reinforced. If the front tire of your car blows out on the highway it can send you flying over the road. With these big tractor trailers, they are usually carrying about fifty or sixty thousand pounds of freight, not counting the weight of the truck. With that, they make sure they can handle the occasional road debris.

I look down the scope of the gun, aiming to hit the meat of the tire. When I have my target set, I pull the trigger.

One of the men nearby runs in front of the truck about the same time I pull the trigger. The shot send the man to the ground in a heap as the blood blossoms on his shirt.

Around him, the others look around trying to find the shooter forcing me to duck behind the concrete barrier before they can get a good view.

“That didn’t work as I planned,” I say, breathing heavily.

“Hard to count on someone not running in the path of the bullet.” Az peeks his head over the top of the railing only to drop back down. I hear the ricochet of the bullet as it hits the concrete near my head.

“How many did you see?” I say, scooting back against the wall.

“Four headed our way,” he says. “Three peons and Alastor.”

“Great. Another demon.”

With that in mind, I ready my weapon to take out the first person I see. He doesn’t make me wait long.

When I see a head pop up over the edge of the hill, I pull the trigger to relieve it from the stress of life. Lowering the gun for a moment, I ready myself for another shot. I hold my breath as the seconds drag on, but nobody else crosses the hill.

“Behind us,” Az says, running towards the ramp. “They circled around.”

I switch my position to aim on the drive ramp right behind us, aiming right where the meat of a body should pass. My patience is rewarded with the sight of a guy holding a pistol, rushing into the open. He doesn’t even make it two steps before my bullet puts a hole in his chest. With the odds even, Az rushes in.

With the odds evened, and the fight now in the open, I drop the rifle in favor of my sword and pistol. Az engages the first man in a sword fight leaving me to deal with the other, a woman carrying a pistol and a knife.

I fire two quick shots the moment I see her, sending her back under the cover of the wall. With her reeling I move in to finish it quickly. She doesn’t get me get close, however, as she fires a few shots over the guardrail at me.

We exchange fire back and forth for a few minutes until I’m out of bullets. The shots stop on her end shortly after, leaving me to believe she is done too.

Across the lot, Az and Alastor are going back and forth. Every time one gains the upper hand, the other seizes it back shortly after. Considering the recipients, that battle could last a long time. Longer than we have.

With that in mind, I drop the pistol and rush forward to be greeted by the woman at the corner. I take a swing at her head that she parries with her large hunting knife.

In another life, fighting a woman would have been out of the question. Even when they were begging for equal rights and such. I just could never bring myself to raise a fist at one. It was more a matter of principal than anything else. I guess my parents just raised me the right way.

Even now, I’m reluctant to harm one on purpose. But I throw that off the table when she takes a wild swing at my chest. If she wants to dance, then I’ll dance.

I move in, swiping the blade horizontally at her stomach. She jumps out of the way of my blade before making her move.

The woman screams as she rushes in with a jab I narrowly avoid by twisting out of the way. She turns around and pulls another hunting knife off her waist. I feel a twinge in my gut when the second is in her hand, so I focus on the new blade and give it a push.

She lets out a grunt when the blade forces her hand back and I let out a smile. It may not have been full strength, but it will definitely work.

Trying to taunt her into attacking, I hold my sword to the side and wave her to me. Her expression turns from surprise to anger as she rushes forward, accepting my challenge.

I let her get about five yards away before pushing on the inside edge of her blade. The move sends the woman off balance and off to my right.

I don’t try to end this here, however. I want to see if I can do this better.

“Fight like a man!” she shouts before squaring up. I just angle myself to the woman and nod.

She thrusts the first blade towards my head, forcing me to parry it to her right. With my side exposed she slashes with the other.

I can almost make out the expression of glee on her face the moment she thinks she has me. But that quickly changes when I put my hand out and push the knife, and her arm, away from my body.

We both circle around to square up once more. This same dance goes on and on until I’ve had enough.

Tiring of playing with the woman, I put my sword away and challenge her to come again. Her lips curl sharply when she accepts my challenge, running forward with a scream that would make William Wallace jealous.

As she gets close, I hold both of my hands in front of my body while I focus on the blade of the knifes. When she leaps in the air to make her killing blow, I do one of my own. Using my power, I force the edge of the blades down, into her gut.

The momentum of my push sends the woman flipping in the air, crashing to the hard concrete parking lot behind me.

The blades of the knives are visible through the back of her shirt with her blood pooling in a nearby crack. I kneel next to the woman knowing she is in pain, to take her home.